Rupert Sargent Holland

“ David carried out the skipper’s orders with proper efficiency. With a gentle breeze the boat stole southward along the shore, and in half-an-hour the lights of the little settlement of Gosport were glimmering over the water.
The smack came up to a wharf. “Now,” said Sam to David, “you can go ashore if you like. The captain and I may do a little cruising, but we don’t need you any longer.”
“Thanks,” said David. He had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but wisely forbore to utter it. He jumped ashore. “If you come to Barmouth, look me up,” he called back. “I’ll be glad to show you the town.” ”

“ An immense cawing came from the tree-tops, and finally as the Argo nosed along close to the shore at least a score of crows flapped away from their meeting-place and went winging off to a more secluded grove.
“Uncle Christopher’s neighbors don’t seem to like visitors any better than he did,” observed Tuckerman with twinkling eyes. “Crows do sound dreadfully scolding, don’t they? And I never knew such birds for all wanting to talk at the same time.”
Tom knew where the old pier stood, and brought his boat skilfully up to the landing-stage. ”

“ Tom looked up at the man with the horn-rimmed spectacles. “Have you ever known anything to taste so good as it does on Cotterell’s Island?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“No, now I come to think of it, I don’t believe I ever have. It’s a wonderful place.”
“Wonderful cooking, you mean,” put in David.
“Wonderful fish,” said Ben.
“Just listen to them,” expostulated Tom. “Each taking the credit to himself. When the fact of the matter is that it’s all due to me. You’d never have come out here, Professor, would you, if I hadn’t agreed to come along?”
“Picture me alone here!” said Tuckerman. ”

“ He swung himself over a cliff and dropped lightly on to the sand. Leaving his fishing-rod in a convenient place where he could pick it up quickly if anyone came by, he began his search.
There were crevices in the rocks, and each of these had to be explored. Bushes and trailing vines, growing from little footholds, covered the seaward surface of many of the cliffs. But Ben, thrilled with the sense of exploration, and persevering by nature, stuck to his task, and was rewarded at last by finding what he sought, two veins of a light yellow color that made the distinct mark of a cross. ”

“ So the boys and Tuckerman took their guests on a regular tour, through the woods, where the russet-green pine-needles made a clean and fragrant carpet, dappled with patches of sunlight; along the little beaches, curves of yellow sand, where sandpipers played and strutted, or flew in silver bands; up on the ramparts of cliffs, against which the waves rolled in and slipped and slid in white cascades over the low-lying ledges, and so to the southern point, where they watched the sun setting in all its glory, tinting the sky and the sea in wonderful combinations of shifting colors. ”

“ Ben looked up with a start. Tom was laughing at him. “Where are you, Benjie? A million miles away!”
“No,” answered Ben, “I was listening to Sir Peter talking to a man you don’t any of you know anything about.”
“Your precious mahogany man?” asked Tom. “Don’t tell me you learned something more about him while you were up at the house.”
“He means the man with the big feet,” said David. “Did you find his prints in the house?”
“David,” said Ben solemnly, “you’re absolutely certain you saw those footprints of a man on the bank of the creek, are you?” ”

“ Tuckerman pulled himself up on to the rock where Tom and David and Ben were sitting in the sun. The quiet of early morning was on the water; a few terns were fishing for their breakfast; there was the distant chug-chug of a lobsterman’s motor-boat somewhere to the south; but otherwise the campers had the shore and the bay to themselves. Tuckerman sat down, sticking his long legs out in front of him. “I may not be a duck,” he said, “but I’m certainly getting web-feet. I feel almost as much at home in the water as on dry land.” ”

“ VI—THE CLIPPER SHIP
Ben Sully was a boy who would rather work out a puzzle than do almost anything else. He had a tremendous amount of patience, which possibly explains why he was such a successful fisherman, since he could wait longer, dangling a piece of bait in the water, than nine out of ten fishes could resist the temptation to find out what the bait tasted like. Any kind of a puzzle, from cut out sections of cardboard that fitted together to make a picture all the way to ingenious contraptions of metal links that didn’t want to come apart, was a delight to Ben. ”

“ The Argo, her helmsman unheeding his business, was slowly coming about, with a ledge of rock dead ahead. Tuckerman wheeled around, put the tiller over—the dory righted again.
“Ben,” said Tom, “don’t you spring anything like that on us again, with the Professor sailing this boat. If you’ve got any other fairy tales, you keep them till we’re on shore.”
“My fault,” said the skipper. “I’m learning. My first business is to bring us safe up to the dock.”
“And my first business,” added David, “is to get something to eat. Mysteries may come and go, but three square meals a day are always needful. ”

“ If this stranger really wanted a sailor to help him with a boat it seemed odd that he should be seeking information from a young fellow lounging on a gate in one of the quiet, elm-shaded streets of Barmouth. It would have been much more natural to look for such information along the waterfront, at some of the docks or piers. “Why don’t you hunt up one of the captains?” Tom suggested. “They might know just the man for you.”
“I don’t want a man,” was the answer. “I want a likely young fellow, someone about your age and general cut of jib—that’s the right seafaring expression, isn’t it? ”

“ Finally Tuckerman said, “I don’t see how we can search anywhere else, unless we do as Dave suggested—pull the house down—and I don’t want to do that.”
“The house is worth more than the treasure,” said Tom.
“That’s so,” Tuckerman agreed. He frowned and bit his lip. “I don’t like to be stumped, that’s the long and short of it. I don’t like to admit that I can’t work out the puzzle.”
“Puzzles never bother me,” said David. “I think they’re stupid things. I never want to know the answer to any of the problems in the algebra books. What good does it do you to know them? ”

“ Naturally Tom felt pleased. He straightened up and stuck his hands in his pockets. “The only thing I don’t understand,” he said, “is how you expect to find a real adventure in the harbor. Of course we could cruise around, and fish and swim. Is that what you had in mind?”
“Did you ever hear of Cotterell’s Island?” The stranger lowered his voice.
Tom nodded. “Of course I have. We call it Crusty Christopher’s Island around here.”
“Have you ever been on it?”
“No,” Tom was forced to admit. “The man who lives there won’t let any one land. ”

“ The Argo was scudding along in a good breeze to Barmouth. Ben was carving a small piece of wood into what he fancied was a resemblance to a mermaid. David, his hands clasped behind his head, lounged in a comfortable corner. Tuckerman was at the tiller, and Tom surveyed his pupil through approving eyes.
“Professor, I think we’re ready to give you your diploma,” Tom said, as he noticed the easy manner in which Tuckerman handled the sailboat. “You’re an able seaman. I’ll give you an honor mark as a navigator.” ”

“ They wanted to locate the two pines that stood between the two rocks. A short search discovered them. The trees, old and gnarled, twisted of branches on the eastern side, where the winter winds had lashed them, still stood like sentinels between the lichen-covered boulders, where Christopher Cotterell and doubtless others before him back to the days of Peter had surveyed them.
“They’re here all right,” said Ben. “What was it the notebook said? ‘I have dug at this place, but found only sand.’ Well, there’s plenty of sand—oodles of it. ”

“ Ben answered, and he told how he had found his way to the Gables.
“Pretty clever,” laughed Hastings. “But instead of finding out why I’d put those things in the chest you went hooked-rug hunting with me.”
“Well,” said Ben, “when we came back to your house I thought you must be Joseph Hastings, but I didn’t get any good opening to follow up the clue. And then there was all that excitement over the robbers. But when I saw you doing those moving-pictures I sized you up as a person who’d like to play a game of some sort on us.” ”

“ When he had finished, Ben nodded. “The plan sounds good to me. I’ve always meant to have a look at that island. As I’ve sized it up, Crusty Christopher wouldn’t have been so concerned to keep people away if he hadn’t had something he wanted to keep secret.”
“I don’t know about that,” said David. “Some people are made that way; they just naturally don’t want other folks around. Maybe the place is just like any other island.”
“Well, I’m going anyhow,” declared Tom. “I guess I can look after Mr. Tuckerman all right by myself. ”

“ It had been a fine old dwelling, built in a day when carpenters and joiners took a real love in their work and were as eager to make a graceful, artistic window or doorway as the medieval masons of Europe were to perfect every detail of their great cathedrals.
Broad steps led up to the front door, which was wide and adorned with a big brass knocker and knob. Tuckerman, taking a little electric flashlight from his pocket, aimed it at the moulding above the door. “Aha,” he exclaimed, “there’s the green and gold pineapple in all its glory! ”

“ She went to the chest and looked at its contents. “Why, it’s only clothes and bric-a-brac! There’s no silverware there.”
“No,” said Cotterell, smiling. “That is not my silver plate. I keep it better hid than that.”
“Oh, do let us dine off it to-night,” begged Miss Boothby. “I should dearly love to see it.”
Cotterell looked perplexed. “Why, I should like you to,” he answered. Then he glanced at the sun. “But the party waits. And it was my intention to dance a minuet on the lawn before my house while it was daylight. Come, friends, come along with me.” ”

“ Ben looked around at the strange medley of objects, thinking how many countries and how many different races of men had contributed to the furnishing of this attic; and then his roving eyes lighted on something that made them glisten—on a bracket against the wall sat the model of a ship.
Ben knew the model to be that of a Yankee clipper—three masts, loftily rigged, with three sky-sail yards, and a long mainyard. She was beautifully built, every detail complete, the deck and hull shining with varnish. “Hello,” sang out Ben, “clipper ship ahoy!” ”

“ David blushed. “Oh, very well,” he said awkwardly. “But I guess I’ll look like a frog.”
They followed Sampson into the hall and up the stairs. As they passed open doors they saw a number of people in gay, colonial clothes. All through the house there was the hum of voices.
Sampson conducted them into the attic, where many suits and dresses hung on pegs along the walls.
“Here is the wardrobe,” he said. “I think you will find everything you may need. And yonder is a mirror.” ”

“ The Tigers held a consultation, while the Amoussocks threw the ball around. Then Sam Noyes, the Tiger captain, stepped over to David. “Billy’s down and out,” he said. “He can’t play any more. But he says you think you can hit their pitcher; and you’re from Barmouth, so that’d be all right. Want to take Billy’s place?”
David glanced up. He knew by the look on Sam’s face that the Tiger captain didn’t believe he could bat any better than the others. “All right,” he answered. “I didn’t mean to boast, you know; but I’ll do my darndest.”
“No one can do more,” murmured Tuckerman behind him. ”

“ Fitzhugh turned to a servant. “Show this gentleman up to the yellow guestroom and get him whatever he wants.”
It was difficult to argue with such a positive man as that; and moreover Ben was thoroughly enjoying his adventure. To be shown up to the yellow guestroom, and later to dine with such a company of moving-picture people would be a new and delightful experience. He would have a story to tell Tom and David and John Tuckerman when he got back to the island that would make them open their eyes. So Ben followed the servant into the house, where the lamps were already lighted. ”

“ The two voices were those of David and Tom.
“I’ve always said,” observed David, “that you can’t catch our Benjie napping. He seems to be sitting there like a bump on a log, but he’s really thinking of the most remarkable things.”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” nodded Tom, “if it was something utterly prodigious—like why the water’s wet or fish have scales.”
“No,” said Ben pleasantly, “I was wondering how I could get Peter Cotterell’s treasure chest out of the place where his servant James Sampson hid it. It’s rather too heavy for me to handle by myself.” ”

“ A man in colonial costume, buff-colored coat and breeches, with a three-cornered hat in his hand, stepped out at the front door.
The man made a bow and held out his hat in a gesture of welcome. “I give you a good-day, gentlemen,” he said. “What fortunate chance brings you to Peter Cotterell’s door?”
Tuckerman took it on himself to answer. Returning the bow, he said, “The good ship Argo has brought four adventurers to your island, worthy sir. We trust we do not trespass.”
The gentleman in buff stood with his hat at his hip. “You’re not from the town of Barmouth?” he asked. ”

“ Milly put the hat down. She herself was very fond of camping and sailing and swimming, and although she pretended to be quite grown up she still yearned at times for her old tomboy ways. “I suppose he isn’t going to be like Old Crusty—I mean Mr. Christopher Cotterell? He won’t mind people coming out to see that queer old house.”
“That’s just what he does mind,” said Tom. “He wants to keep the whole thing dark, for the present, at least. Why, if he didn’t, all Barmouth would be going out there. Most of them never got nearer the place than to read the signs; and they’d all be crazy to go.” ”

“ There aren’t so many trees, but each of them is a giant.”
Rosalind flung herself down near the oak. “Oh, Master Ben,” she panted, “fan me with your hat.”
And while Ben gallantly flapped his hat close to the red-cheeked lady, the others came bounding into the glade, like so many children just let out from school.
In a few minutes Fitzhugh, a paper in his hand, was calling out directions. Ben, observing everything, saw a couple of men crossing the lawn with what looked like a big camera. He turned to Rosalind. “I know what it is,” he whispered. “You’re moving-picture people doing a play.” ”

“ Early the next afternoon the few occupants of Lowe’s Wharf—a couple of men fishing for cunners, a sailor painting the bottom of an upturned dory, two small boys practising tying various kinds of knots with odds and ends of rope—saw three young fellows in dark blue jerseys and khaki coats and trousers and a man rigged out in a homespun Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers and greenish-gray golf stockings assemble as if they were about to start on an expedition. ”

“ Nevertheless when Milly’s boat was out from the island, the campers embarked in the Argo and sailed along after them, until the lights of Barmouth were visible right ahead. Then, with a good-night shout, the crew of the Argo brought their craft about and headed back for the pier.
They walked through the moonlit woods to their camp, cleaned the dishes, and made things snug for the night. As Ben, seated on a log, pulled off his shoes, he said to Tom, who sat near him: “Did you hear what Sally said about that desk in the corner?” ”